Chapter Text
Call it foolish, naive hope. Hoping that he could change this. Hoping that he could save him. But as the click registered from the gun's trigger, the bullet released from its chamber and Nicolas' blood splattered across his face. His blood was on his hands. He couldn't stop him. He couldn't save him. The initial shock of the entire scene seemed to play out in slow motion as the young man's body before him fell, lifeless, colliding right into him. Glenn blinked, just barely able to lift his arms enough to grab a hold of him. As if it would somehow matter. As if he could stop gravity from sucking him down into the pit of walkers swarming them. But he couldn't.
Glenn's ears were ringing, his body practically bouncing off the pavement as the sound of the walkers were muted above him as he choked, coughing and screaming in silence as the bodies started to grab at their next meal. He could see the blood and sinew, being torn apart. It was all a blur once the back of his head had hit the pavement. This was how he died. Not by some well-walker, not by making stupid runs into town on his own, not by being captured and nearly beaten to death, not by some glorified cold. He was dying because he still had faith in the one man who tried to kill him. And now Nicholas was successful, after taking his own life.
The pain wasn't there though. Glenn stared in horror, continued to stare in horror, until he realized it. Looking just above his head, he noticed the dumpster was right there. Right behind him. And so he started to pull himself towards it, pulling himself under it. It was the only option he had, and as he pulled himself under the shelter, he began to realize that his body was still in tact. He hadn't been ripped apart but Nicholas had. The other man's body had fallen, crumpled, on top of him, acting as a shield. And Glenn didn't know how much time that left him with—thirty seconds? Five minutes? A couple hours? He was just prolonging the inevitable at this point. These walkers... There were far too many for them to just disperse on their own.
Managing to curl himself under the dumpster, his back to the chain link fence, Glenn's eyes were fixed on the remains of Nicholas' body as it was torn apart. Watching the rotten flesh of the walkers' hands grab greedily, tearing away. His vision blurred again, only this time from tears. Glenn wiped at his face, bringing his hands back to see the blood of the fallen Alexandrian, shaking uncontrollably. A quiet sob wracked his frame, and then another, before he covered his mouth, blinking and causing the tears to escape. That could have been him. He could have died just like that. And Maggie...
He was alone. No one was coming for him. And even if they were, they would never find him. He wasn't able to send up a signal. He wasn't able to provide them with a sign that he was okay—that he was still alive for however much time he had left.
Glenn startled at the sound of a horn. Three long honks, each one lasting a few seconds. Wiping at his face again, he could see the feet of the walkers begin to shuffle. Some of them were being drawn away. That's when he noticed his walkie talkie lying on the ground about where he fell, just outside of his cover from under the dumpster. It had detached itself in the fall, probably on impact with the pavement. Watching the walkers, his eyes scanning the perimeter of the dumpster as best he could, he made a desperate grab for the black piece of plastic. He looked it over, trying to push it back together as it was cracked pretty good. Not even sure if it would work or not, Glenn checked that the volume was low before turning the knob, trying to find the right frequency.
"Rick," he whispered into the device, clutching onto it as if his life depended on it. "Daryl." There was nothing but static and Glenn could feel himself starting to lose hope. He didn't even know if anyone else made it out okay. He didn't know what was going on back home. He didn't know if Maggie was okay.
Knowing he couldn't say much, in one last effort, he whispered again:
"Help."
Glenn stared out at the walkers, his chest rising and falling sharply with each breath. They were still distracted. Whoever or whatever had purposely hit that horn had drawn a portion of them away, taken their attention away from the dumpster, beginning to roam aimlessly again. That was when Glenn located the flare gun still attached to his belt. He had dropped his knife and gun in the fall, and they were too far out to be able to grab safely. Thinking about his surroundings, he remembered the fence was pretty tall. It would take a while to climb. Furthermore, one way it led straight into shrubbery and trees, the other, into more walkers. And there was a tarp-like material that would more than likely hinder any climbing from happening in the first place.
But there was a staircase. Blocked, but it was there. Was it accessible? Glenn could find a way over the stuff in front of it, surely. He had to find a way back home. He was still alive for a reason. He could make it.
Slowly dragging himself out towards the side of the dumpster, Glenn managed to make it back on his feet. A couple walkers crashed into the fence behind him, startling him and drawing his attention to them very briefly, their teeth gnashing against the chain links before he registered that they weren't getting him. They weren't the bigger picture. Turning back to the herd was where Glenn felt his heart stop momentarily, that feeling of dread and slow motion seeming to sweep over him again. Eyes locked onto the staircase. He could make it.
One hand gripping the talkie and the other gripping the flare gun, Glenn took off running. He didn't have the armor like he had back in the prison but he didn't have much of a choice as he plowed through what walkers were still hanging around. His heart was racing, feeling as though it was about to beat out of his chest as his momentum started to slow, the walkers becoming too much. But he managed to keep pushing on, shrugging his way through as walkers that noticed him started to try and make a grab at him. Glenn made it to the bottom of the staircase just as a walker had grabbed onto his right arm. Reacting fast, Glenn smashed the walkie talkie into its face, the device as well as the walker crumbling to the pavement. But he still had time.
Climbing over the obstacles in desperation, Glenn got his footing back and he damn near tripped up the stairs, racing to get to the roof. He aimed the flare gun directly up into the sky and pulled the trigger, praying someone would see it, praying that the others were alive to know that he was still alive. Coming to the rooftop, Glenn searched it over, looking for an escape. The walkers were starting to make their way up behind him, tripping their own way up the stairs. He didn't have anything he could use as a weapon. Everything was gone, left at the dumpster.
Seeing a building that looked about the same height, just a little lower and not too far away, Glenn picked up the pace. Running as fast as he could towards it, he leaped for the next rooftop, briefly catching a glimpse of more walkers down below, a good three stories or so down. He hit hard, instantly losing his balance and the momentum sending him forward, his left arm taking the toll as he skid to a stop. Gasping in pain, Glenn quickly pulled himself back together after glancing back at the rooftop he had just jumped from, just in time to see a couple walkers fall over the edge and splatter to the ground. He worked his way back up on his feet, cringing at the burning pain radiating from his left arm, blood running from his wrist to his elbow. It was the only blood that belonged to him, his shirt drenched and his face splattered from Nicholas'.
Glenn made his way over to the edge of the building he was now standing on, looking down. There were more walkers. And still a lot more out in the street. Searching the area, looking for a way down, he found it. Glenn jogged over to the opposite side of the building and looked down to see where he would end up. It looked a little more clear but definitely more manageable. He slowly lowered himself down over the edge, his foot finding a window ledge to rest upon as he got his bearings. He quickly tucked the flare gun into the front of his pants, his belt keeping it securely in place for the time being as he started to climb his way down. There was a fire exit off to his side, not quite accessible from the rooftop he was on, seeing as it was attached to the building next to him. It wasn't a jump he could make but maybe, he'd be able to reach it if he climbed down the side of the building ever so slightly.
Looking back over his shoulder at the fire escape, the black iron stairs with a ladder at the bottom, he could feel a pit in his stomach. It was a stretch and even if he could make it, it would be a close call. Glenn prepared to swing his arm out but stopped, staring at the escape. Just to test the distance, he stretched an arm out, his fingers just barely able to brush against the cold metal. He had become so focused on whether or not he could actually make the jump that his right foot had slid out from under him, quickly swinging his body back towards the wall in front of him and clinging onto the brick ledge, his right foot struggling to find purchase on the ledge again. The struggle had made him realize how far up he truly was. A fall that would end with a miserable death. Not one on impact, but one that would leave him with shattered bones, one where he would bleed out internally and be ripped apart by walkers with no way to get back up and run.
Glenn rested his forehead against the wall and took a deep breath. He had to get home. He had to get home.
With one last glance over his shoulder, Glenn pushed off the wall and jumped, his right arm outstretched for the fire escape. His fingers had wrapped themselves around the handrail before his body crashed into the vertical railings, legs dangling below anything he could dig his feet into, and too high to reach the level below him. He knew the sound would draw what walkers were already below him over closer before he let out a yelp of pain. He just barely managed to swing his left arm up and grab onto the handrail as his right hand slipped. Glenn slammed his right hand back up onto the rail though, balancing out his weight and squeezing his eyes shut. His left arm was burning from skidding across the rough texture of the paved rooftop and now his right shoulder was screaming in agony after taking the brunt of his weight and dangling three stories up in the air.
But it didn't stop him from pulling himself up, lodging one foot into the railings before he managed to pull his other foot up. One in front of the other. Glenn practically collapsed, falling onto the other side and rolling onto his back in the confided space. His eyes shut and his breathing erratic, he smirked a little. He made it.
The growls of the walkers down below brought him back as he slowly made his way back onto his feet once more. His level of exhaustion was quickly rising and he still had quite a ways to go to get back home. He wasn't even sure which direction home really was. Nicholas had pointed off towards the east and that was the best guess he had after they had gotten turned around and had to take a path into territory that was completely unfamiliar to Glenn. Climbing his way down the stairs, Glenn started to check himself over for the first time since hightailing it out of the herd. His shoulders and arms were clean of walker bites, and after pulling at his shirt, the only blood he could find was blood that didn't belong to him.
Glenn made it to the last flight of stairs before grabbing onto the ladder and kicking it down, the metal clanking its way down after a couple kicks and coming to a stop after impaling a walker directly below. He climbed the rest of the way down, shoving the nearest walker towards the wall before taking off on foot again. He was utterly exhausted as he carried himself forward, zig-zagging his way in and out of the few stragglers. Coming to a fork in the alley, he was just about to take a right turn, trying to get away from the herd he originally faced, only to find another. Glenn quickly turned himself around and started running the opposite direction, rounding a different corner before he felt a harsh tug on his left arm, pulling him against their body and a hand covering his mouth. Glenn was dragged into the shadows and through a doorway before the shock wore off and he tried to pull free.
"Quiet."
Glenn froze at the voice, listening to the man who kept a hold of him. He stopped struggling and didn't make a peep just as a few walkers started to march their way past the doorway they had just sidled back into. It wasn't until after those few turned into a lot more that the man who had saved Glenn's life let up his hold, footsteps quietly trailing off behind him and further into the shadows before Glenn could turn around and make out his appearance, barely catching a glimpse of a booted foot.